


don’t break me again (i am delicate)

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: “that’s a really big dream.”“it’s my biggest dream.”“mine seems really lame in comparison.”“it’s not lame,” eliott rebukes, looking down at lucas for a moment before glancing back out into the distance. “i just… i just want more, you know? don’t you ever want more?”or: late night conversations





	don’t break me again (i am delicate)

**Author's Note:**

> it’s you, it’s always you  
> if i’m ever gonna fall in love  
> i know it’s gonna be you  
> it’s you, it’s always you  
> met a lot of people  
> but nobody feels like you
> 
> so, please, don’t break my heart  
> don’t tear me apart  
> i know how it starts  
> trust me: i’ve been broken before  
> don’t break me again  
> i am delicate  
> please, don’t break my heart  
> trust me: i’ve been broken before

“what’s your biggest dream?” eliott asks, cutting through the comfortable silence that had developed between them.

it’s late at night, and they both really should be asleep, but neither of them can seem to cross that line. lucas drifts every now and again—it’s hard not to when he has his head on his boyfriend’s chest and eliott keeps running his fingers through lucas’s hair—but never quite getting any deeper. he doesn’t mind much. sure, they both have to get up early for school, but also… there’s something about conversations that occur before the break of dawn.

lucas hums thoughtfully, mulling it over in his mind. he’s thought about changing many things in his life over the years. before eliott, if he were to find a genie in a bottle, his three wishes would be a no brainer: a stable family, lots of money, and eternal happiness. heavy emphasis on the _stable family_ part. god only knows how many sleepless nights lucas has spent wishing for that, both pre and post eliott.

but now that he’s with eliott and his relationship with his mom is on the mend, he feels like his typical answers aren’t really applicable. he has a stable family—but a chosen family. not all blood, but definitely all love. he found manon, mika, lisa, yann, arthur, basile, imane, and above everyone else, he found eliott. maybe he doesn’t have lots of money, but he has happiness. he’s never been this happy in his lifetime, and he thinks that counts for way more than millions of dollars ever could.

the only thing that lucas could fathom dreaming about and wishing for is for everything to be just like this for the rest of his life.

“i don’t know,” he admits, drawing small circles on eliott’s bare chest. “maybe a house, with a white picket fence and a dog and a big tree with a swing. and it’ll be one we’ll buy together, after we get married. and we’ll be talking about kids and exploring our options, and you’ll be a successful director or screenwriter and i’ll be a successful… _something,_ and we’ll live together and be in love even when we’re old and gray and our grandchildren think it’s gross when we kiss.”

eliott laughs, pressing a kiss into lucas’s hair. “that sounds amazing. i don’t doubt that we’ll have that one day,” he murmurs, tracing his long fingers around lucas’s left ring finger. it feels weird to so comfortably talk about their eventual engagement and marriage as if it’s a given, especially considering they haven’t been together for a full year yet, but it just _feels_ certain. lucas has never loved anyone this much before, and maybe it’s naïve, but he can’t imagine spending his life next to anyone else. thankfully, eliott seems to share the same feelings.

“what about you?”

“i want to be a famous director. i want to produce polaris and maybe some other movies and make it big, move to hollywood and become a big name like steven spielberg or baz luhrmann. i want to be so famous and well-loved that people watch my movies just because they love my directing, regardless of plot or genre. i don’t even care about the money, really, i just want to wake up in the morning and read people talking about how i won the oscar for best director while drinking my coffee.”

lucas looks up at him. “hollywood?” he asks, and eliott nods. the hand in lucas’s hair stills as eliott looks off into the distance, as though he’s imagining delivering an acceptance speech right then and there. “that’s a really big dream.”

“it’s my biggest dream.”

“mine seems really lame in comparison.”

“it’s not lame,” eliott rebukes, looking down at lucas for a moment before glancing back out into the distance. “i just… i just want _more,_ you know? don’t you ever want more?”

suddenly, lucas wishes they’d just gone to sleep. he really doesn’t like where this conversation is headed. “more than what?” he dares to ask, his voice way too quiet and unsure for his liking. eliott, however, doesn’t seem to notice.

“more than _this._ more than— you know, more than sitting in bed at 3am in a shared apartment in paris just talking about making it big. don’t you ever want that? don’t you ever picture yourself on a big stage, staring out at thousands and thinking of how far you’ve come from how menial your life was before?”

lucas thinks back on his three wishes, and frowns. he knows eliott isn’t expecting lucas to say no, that all he ever wanted growing up was parents that loved him (and each other) and to be happy. so he doesn’t say that. instead he just hides his face from eliott’s sight and minutely shakes his head no, hoping that maybe eliott won’t notice and he can just keep going on about whatever.

it’s hard not to think about the implications of what eliott is saying. lucas knows, logically, that he isn’t what eliott wants more than. he just wants to get out of paris and out of the same old high school routine everyday. lucas gets that.

but in the back of his mind, he can’t help but think about how maybe, just _maybe,_ eliott meant him, too. maybe eliott wants to go off to hollywood and produce his movies and fuck his way through the groupies and set assistants without having to worry about the boyfriend he has back at home. it’s a shitty thought to have, especially when he considers that he’s thinking these things about the love of his life.

“no?” eliott asks.

“no,” lucas whispers. “i don’t have anything _more_ to want.”

eliott sighs, his fingers starting up in lucas’s hair again. lucas pushes his head into the touch and presses his eyes closed, trying very desperately to fall asleep so he doesn’t have to hear any more of what eliott has to say. he doesn’t like this conversation, he doesn’t want to hear about how eliott thinks his life is menial and _temporary,_ how he wants to get away from it.

“maybe it’s crazy, but i always thought that i’d have done something with my life by now. i thought maybe i’d have something to show for the ideas i have in my head, you know? like polaris.”

at the mention of polaris again, lucas bristles. he knows that it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, but he thinks of who polaris was about. basically—not about him. and it’s dumb, because eliott didn’t even know him then, and he was the one who got the polaris kiss with eliott anyway, but he can’t get the thought out of his mind that he wasn’t who eliott first imagined that kiss with.

lucas knows, distantly, that he’s spiraling. he’s letting his mind take over and run with the idea that anyone he’s ever loved will leave in the end, probably a side effect of the whole father abandonment thing. he’s hurting himself, just making this worse. eliott didn’t say that he wasn’t happy with lucas, lucas thought that up all on his own.

“so,” lucas asks, against his better judgment, “are you not happy with your life currently?”

“there are parts of it that i’m more than happy with, of course,” eliott murmurs. _like me,_ lucas reminds himself. “but overall? i don’t know. i guess not. or, it’s not that i’m not happy with my life, i think i could just be happier. you know?

_no. this is the happiest i’ve ever been in my life._

“i guess,” lucas lies.

eliott shifts, holds lucas tighter. lucas tucks his face back where eliott can’t see it, so he won’t be able to read his expression and know the agony he’s putting himself through. it’s not eliott’s fault that he’s got these issues, these… _abandonment_ issues. eliott hasn’t given a single indication that he’s going to leave, so lucas’s worrying has no foundation. everything is _fine._

“i just want so much more than this,” eliott repeats quietly. “that’s my biggest dream.”

lucas stays quiet, trying to pretend he’s asleep. maybe if he pretends, eliott will stop talking, and lucas won’t end up crying and scaring the fuck out of eliott.

“lucas?” eliott whispers, and lucas doesn’t respond. “did you fall asleep? good. you need sleep, baby.” he presses a kiss to lucas’s forehead and then apparently settles in himself, and lucas hopes that he doesn’t feel the way lucas’s lip wobbles.

//

“bro,” yann says as he slides into the seat across from lucas at lunch, holding his phone screen towards him, “why is eliott texting _me_ to ask where you are?”

lucas shrugs, “probably because i accidentally left my phone at home.”

“how do you accidentally leave your phone at home?”

“by doing it on purpose.”

yann and arthur stare at him like he’s grown a third head, and lucas shifts uncomfortably. “okay,” arthur says slowly, “why did you leave your phone at home? you know, you’ve been acting really weird the last few days.”

“because i— i don’t want eliott texting me, okay?”

yann raises his eyebrows. “trouble in paradise?”

“i guess.”

“what’s wrong?” basile asks, looking up from where he’d been making some weird edit of himself and daphnè.

lucas sighs, picking at his jeans. he knows the boys are just going to tell him that he’s being stupid and ridiculous, and he’s not sure that’s what he wants to hear right now. he wants sympathy, someone to tell him that it’s not out of line to get upset when your boyfriend basically says his ideal future doesn’t have a place for you at all.

he can feel his eyes starting to burn again, and for a moment, he inwardly laughs at himself. god, he’s so pathetic. crying at school because his boyfriend accidentally said something that hurt his feelings. who has he become?

“i’ve been avoiding him,” lucas admits, because it’s easier to talk about that part than to admit the truth about why. “since monday. he asked to come over tuesday and i told him i had homework, wednesday i said i had a really bad headache and just wanted to be left alone, and yesterday i told him that i had plans with you, yann. and i haven’t been replying to his texts, or answering his calls and stuff. but that got really hard to do so i left my phone at home today, so i wouldn’t have to see the texts or calls. at school the only time i really have to avoid him is after my literature class, so i’ve just been hanging around to ‘ask the teacher questions’ until i’m sure eliott has left for his class. he can’t stand to be late, so.”

yann blinks. “am i going to have to kick his ass?” he asks, and lucas can’t help but let out a surprised laugh. “i’m serious. if he did something bad enough that you’re avoiding him like that… all you have to do is say the word, and i’ll kick his ass.”

“me, too,” arthur nods. “i mean, i won’t be much help but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“thanks, guys, but it’s nothing like that. i don’t even think he knows what he did. or, i mean, what he said.”

“what did he say?” baz asks.

lucas shifts uncomfortably again, and decides to just rip off the bandaid. “on monday night, we couldn’t sleep. and so, like. he asked me what my biggest dream was, and i basically just talked about the future i saw for me and him. and then he told me that— i mean, he said his biggest dream was to become a famous director and stuff. and he said that he wants more than this.”

arthur frowns, “more than what?”

“that’s what i said,” lucas mumbles. “and he just said that he wants more than sitting in bed in a shared apartment in paris talking about dreams. he said that his life is menial right now, and he feels like he could be happier if he had more.” the boys are quiet for a long time, and lucas feels his stomach starting to tighten. “i know it’s stupid, okay? i know he didn’t mean me, but i just can’t stop thinking about like— what if he did?”

“it’s not stupid,” yann says instantly, and lucas looks up nervously. “i mean, you’re right, he probably didn’t mean you. but it sounded like he did. like, he should’ve been more careful about what he said. if my girlfriend said something like that to me, i’d be hurt too.”

“you would?”

“yeah,” arthur cuts in. “i mean, it sucks to hear someone talk about a future without you in it, you know? but i’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. have you talked to him about it?”

lucas rolls his eyes. “no. i’ve been avoiding him since.”

basile sighs, “lucas, we’ve talked about this before. you have to talk to him. otherwise, all you’re doing is hurting yourself and eliott more. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“he could break up with me.”

“yeah,” baz allows, “but he won’t. he’ll tell you he’s sorry and that he didn’t mean it and you’ll probably cry and then it’ll all be solved. but all of this avoiding him and purposefully leaving your phone at home is doing nothing but causing more unnecessary pain.”

“baz is right,” yann says, sounding surprised to be saying that sentence. lucas is surprised, too, every time he’s reminded that baz actually has good advice sometimes. “just talk to him, man.”

“okay,” lucas concedes. “okay. i will.”

“good. let us know how it goes.” yann takes a bite of his food, and then points the fork at lucas. “and let me know if i need to kick his ass.”

//

after thirty minutes of staring at all of the unanswered messages eliott sent (as well as typing and deleting hundreds of messages), lucas finally gains the courage to just type and send.

_wanna come over? i miss you._

he presses send and then tosses the phone on the bed, fingers shaking with nerves. he knows its so stupid that he’s acting like this—eliott is his _boyfriend,_ for god’s sake. there’s nothing weird or embarrassing about saying you’ve missed your boyfriend and want him to come over.

there is, of course, something weird about the fact that he’s going to have to ask eliott if he sees a future with lucas in it. but he’ll worry about that later.

on the bed, his phone buzzes. he leans down to pick it up, smiling when he sees the text on the screen.

_already on the way <3 _

he spends the next half an hour sitting on his bed, waiting for eliott. he feels so awkward and uncomfortable, knowing that eliott is probably going to ask him why he’s been avoiding him and knowing he’s going to have to explain. he feels like he could throw up just thinking about the prospect of eliott realizing his future plans don’t include lucas and that they should break up if this isn’t going somewhere.

god, this is stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid. eliott had a crush on him for months, actively pursued him, hell, he was the one that reached out to lucas first after everything went to shit. eliott loves him, there’s no reason to believe that’s stopped now.

except for the fact that everyone leaves him, eventually. even his own father left him, fucked off to wherever and can’t even find the time to text him or show up to the mass that he guilted lucas into attending and only shows ‘love’ by monthly bank deposits. if lucas’s father can’t love him, why the hell should anybody else?

he’s torn out of those thoughts by a knock on his bedroom door, which creaks open to reveal eliott. and he looks so beautiful, all soft and warm and cuddly, and lucas suddenly forgets why avoiding eliott was ever a plan in the first place.

“hi,” eliott smiles, stepping in and closing the door behind him. lucas smiles back, but it fades when eliott hovers at the door like he’s not sure he’s allowed in, and lucas knows that he caused that uncertainty.

“come sit with me,” lucas beckons, and eliott does, moving to sit on his side of the bed. lucas thinks about how much he loves that eliott has his own side of the bed now, how lucas won’t sleep on that side even if he’s alone. “i’ve missed you.”

“i missed you, too,” eliott murmurs. “but, uh. i guess that’s typically what happens when your boyfriend is avoiding you.” at lucas’s wince, eliott just sighs and leans closer. “we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, you know. but whatever i did to piss you off or whatever, just know that i didn’t mean to. and i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t… you didn’t _do_ anything.”

eliott nods patiently. “okay. well, i’m still sorry.” he scoots closer, rests the palm of his hand on lucas’s cheek. “i love you.”

“do you ever think about breaking up?” lucas blurts, and then instantly regrets it. fuck.

eliott sits back, pulling his hand back like he’s been burnt. “what?” he asks, more of a wheezing breath than a question, and lucas feels like absolute shit for how that came out. “what do you— what?”

“that came out wrong,” lucas says quickly, and eliott looks so panicked—his face is drained of color, his eyes wide and searching lucas’s face desperately. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“do— do you want to break up?”

“no. no, of course i don’t,” lucas assures him, reaching out to touch his hand. eliott lets him, so lucas threads this fingers together. “i don’t want to break up, i promise. i’ve just… you said something the other day, and it scared me. it fucking terrified me, and it hurt my feelings, and i just need to know if you see a future for us. like, i need to know that you’re not thinking of breaking up with me one day, okay? i need to know.”

eliott finally scoots closet again, pulling his hand out of lucas’s so he can wrap his arms around him instead. “of course not, baby. where did you even get that? baby, i don’t understand.”

“when we were talking about dreams the other night, you said you wanted more. you said— you said that you wanted more than sitting in an apartment talking about dreams. you said your life is boring.” he pauses, looks up to see if eliott has connected the dots. but eliott just looks confused, staring at him with a furrowed brow and a deep frown. “eliott, you said you wanted more than sitting in an apartment talking about dreams _with me.”_

“what? i never said—”

“you didn’t have to,” lucas mumbles, closing his eyes and trying to fight off the burning feeling again. “whatever. i know it’s stupid, okay?” he tries to pull out of eliott’s hug, and a sob works its way into his throat when eliott lets him go. “it just hurt my feelings. because you were talking about wanting more, about moving to hollywood and winning an oscar and making movies and not once did you say anything about me. you want more than paris, more than this apartment—which is _my_ apartment, by the way—and more than your life. you said you think you could be happier. and you know what? this is the happiest i’ve ever been in my life, eliott. i thought maybe you felt the same.”

eliott reaches for him again, tries to hold him. but lucas just scoots back, moves so he’s sitting on his side of the bed with his back to eliott and his feet flat on the floor.

“i don’t see a future without you in it, and i don’t want one. my dream, my biggest wish, is to have everything i have now for the rest of my life. to have you and to be this happy forever. and your dream is to get out of your boring fucking life with me and go stand on a stage in front of thousands of people who don’t know you and accept an award that means nothing and it doesn’t matter to you if i’m there or not. i’m not there, am i, eliott? i’m not in that crowd of thousands, i’m not a part of the acceptance speech you have written. i’m stuck in this tiny apartment in paris with my roommates watching you on tv and talking about our dreams, aren’t i? i’m stuck in this apartment with my stupid fucking dreams and everything else that isn’t good enough for you.”

“lucas, i _never_ said that. i never said any of that. i don’t understand why you’re taking my words and adding all of this unnecessary meaning to them.”

but those words don’t register. all that registers is the fact that eliott isn’t denying it, won’t say that _of course_ lucas has a place in his daydreams, that eliott would never want a future that lucas isn’t a part of. and it all makes lucas feel impossibly stupid. he’d never been loved properly before, and he’d let his first experience get to him. he’d forgotten what love really is, and how it really ends. he’d forgotten that loving means getting left behind eventually.

he stands up, pulling at his hair. eliott’s hands ghost across his spine so lucas darts across to the other side of the room. he sees eliott’s pained expression but he can’t bring himself to care, just stares at eliott from across the room and tries to breathe through the fog.

“i don’t even know what to say,” lucas admits, and eliott frowns but doesn’t say anything else. _i’m not the first person you’ve ever loved, i shouldn’t have been stupid enough to think i would be your last._ “if— if you don’t see a future with me, then it’s fine. i mean, it fucking sucks, but i don’t… _you_ don’t owe me anything. but don’t act like i’m fucking crazy to make the accusation when you can’t even look me in the eye and deny it.”

“i want whoever i’m in love with to be by my side at all times. for a while, i pictured lucille. and then that went to shit, and now i love you, and i really do think you’re it for me. so of course you have a place, lucas. but i wasn’t even talking about us, in that conversation. when i asked about your biggest dream i meant, like, a dream job or dream vacation or something. that’s why i answered the way i did. i never thought of wanting to be with someone forever as an answer to that question.”

it sounds like a dirty fucking lie, because eliott demaury is a romantic. a hopeless one. he’d be the first to talk about the love of his life in terms of infinities. _you’re a romantic, you can’t be tied down. you want to move away and romance the shit out of people, just like you did to me. when will i get the call that lucille got, the call that you love someone else?_

“my fucking dream is to be loved,” lucas snaps, tightening his fingers into his own shirt. “by you. and you… you can’t even say _that._ all you can say is you want ‘whoever you’re in love with’ to be next to you. this is bullshit, eliott.”

“you’re overreacting! whatever happened to minute by minute?”

lucas rolls his eyes, but immediately regrets it when the action makes tears fall. he swipes at them quickly and then makes his way to the dresser, pulling out random clothes. eliott grabs onto his arms and tries to stop him, but lucas is running on adrenaline and anger, and eliott couldn’t stop him if he tried.

“lucas, _stop._ this is ridiculous, it’s getting too out of hand. just calm down and we can talk about this, okay?”

lucas rounds on him, feels his fingertips tremble as he clenched his fist. “fuck you. i know you, eliott. i know how you love. and i know that, if i was truly the person you could see yourself spending forever with, you’d have said it. and all you’ve done is deny it, so.” he shoves his clothes into a bag and slings it over his shoulder. eliott’s tearing up now; and he looks so impossibly confused that, under any other circumstances, lucas would’ve teased him. “i’m going to stay the night at yann’s. you can stay here for the night if you want.”

“lucas, come on. don’t be like this. you know how i feel about you.”

 _i know how you felt about lucille. there’s a timer on us, too._ “i know. and i’m sorry, i just— i need some space.” eliott begs again, and lucas keeps trying to deny him. but it’s hard, seeing eliott hurting and not doing anything about it. “i changed my view of marriage for you. did you know that? i’d sworn off marriage. you’re the one who made me believe in it again.”

“lucas—”

“it was stupid. this whole thing is stupid. i’m overreacting, i know.” he sighs, looking back at the door. “but this really hurt me, eliott. and you don’t fucking take me seriously.”

eliott is on his feet now, standing in front of lucas and trying to hold his hands. lucas is too tired to struggle, so he allows it. “i _am_ taking you seriously. i’m just confused. i don’t understand how you got this worked up over our conversation when it was never like that.”

“because i’m fucked up. i’ve watched so many relationships crumble,” _because of me,_ “and i’m watching this one now, too.” eliott steps back like he’s been slapped, but doesn’t let go of lucas’s hands. lucas takes it upon himself to do the honors, pulling his hands back and tucking them in his pockets. “so many people think my parents’ marriage was a loveless marriage. it wasn’t. my mom loved my dad so much, it was like… it took up so much room in her heart. but he didn’t feel the same. he didn’t want a future with her. but he married her because he knocked her up and then he left us because he couldn’t stand to feel trapped in a marriage he didn’t ever even _want._ i don’t want that for us. i don’t want you to commit to me because it’s easier than making it big in hollywood, or because it’s good enough for you right now. i don’t want to wait for the day that you can’t take it anymore.”

“we’re not your parents, baby. i fucking love you, and i want a future with you. i told you that, i told you that i saw the house and the dog and the kids that you talked about. i told you that i could see us, all gray and wrinkled, sitting together in rocking chairs and stuff. i do see that.”

“you see it because it’s easiest. it’s not your biggest dream, it’s just the most realistic right now. but if you had to pick between the two…”

eliott throws his hands up, clearly growing exasperated. and lucas knows, somewhere within himself, that he might be _slightly_ overreacting. but he can’t stop it. he can’t stop the spiral that’s telling him he’s not good enough, that eliott is settling for him and that, if he was given an opportunity to go to LA tomorrow, eliott would leave him in a heartbeat. and lucas couldn’t even be upset, because he knows (now) that that’s eliott’s biggest dream and all he ever really wants is for eliott to be fucking happy.

“why am i picking?! this is all _hypothetical._ i’m so fucking confused.”

“i know. it’s fine. i just need some space and some air,” lucas mumbles. he can feel eliott’s gaze on him, and it makes him squirm. _he’s trying to call my bluff. he’s reminding me that i’ve had nothing but time, while avoiding him._ “we can talk about it in the morning, with clear minds. maybe we just need to sleep on it.”

“so you’re staying?”

“i need space,” lucas repeats. “i’ll come back from yann’s in the morning.”

“baby. come on. please.”

“in the morning,” lucas promises again, and eliott deflates, collapsing back down onto lucas’s bed and just frowning at him. it’s almost enough to make lucas cave. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

lucas doesn’t cry again until he gets to yann’s, but yann doesn’t judge. of course he doesn’t. he just makes him food and then cuddles him to sleep. and, of course, when lucas is asleep, he silences lucas’s phone so he won’t be disturbed.

it’s nice, but eliott isn’t there. that’s all lucas really wants.

_you better get used to it. he won’t be around long. you’ll just be watching him from a tv screen, accepting awards and walking red carpets. he’ll grow tired of you. he’s bored._

just like his father, lucas thinks. lucas has never been fucking good enough.

eliott wants more, but lucas has already given him everything he has. he doesn’t have anything _more_ to give him.

**Author's Note:**

> title/lyrics from it’s you by ali gatie
> 
> find me on tumblr @elullemant


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